Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1887-12-01
..There Harold,s worst traits swiftly


was fearful to witness, and at last these
words was said
Go; you are no son of mine hence
forth! Let me never see your face
again.
Coming swiftly to my side, my boy
clasped his arms about me and kissed
me.
Goodbye, mother he said, and
his lips were quivering. You have
always loved me. Perhaps had I been
left with you | would have been bet
ter boy. My father has commanded
me to go, and | must obey
81 strove to speak, but my voice was
choked, and the words would not come
Then suddenly film came before my
vision, and | knew no more. When [
came back to consciousness Harold
had gone. From that day have never
short while later my husband died.
the memory Of what he had done; but
it was beyond recall. Doyou wonder,
Eunice, that this day, as it recurs
year after year, brings with it the
same sense of grief and painP'
The old lady paused, her voice brok-
en- by sobs, and Eunice's soft hand
steals into hers with comforting pres
sure.
Suddenly a sound breaks the still
ness; there is "a football upon the
threshold, and hand lifts the latch
of the hospitable door that in that quiet
country place there is no need OF
fastening till the shadows fall.
Mrs. Winstead starts to her feet.
Who is that who enters with so little
ceremony?
With an enquiring gaze her old eyes
rest upon the handsome bearded face
before her.
Catching her two hands in his, the
stranger draws her to him.
Mother, do you not know your son
your Harold?"
With a cry of intense passionate
thankfulness the old lady falls upon
her sons breast-her prodigal, re-
turned at last to his home and her
love.
And Eunice, from her corner by the
fireside, looks on with a sympathetic
glow lighting up her face into won
drous beauty.
1t may be that which causes Har-
ODDS start, when little later his moth
er draws her forward to introduce her
to her cousin.
''Ah, my son, why did you leave me
all these years, not knowing whether
you were live or dead?"
Because, mother until the past few
years my life record was one that
would have but given you pain to know
of. is the grave answer. ''When my
father drove me from home it was to
what, but for an angles Intervention,
might have been my eternal ruin. The
angel had your own eyes, my mother;
but | will tell you more OF that some
other time. was not saved at once;
but [ was made to think, and it ended
IN my resolving to turn over new
leaf. Then there came to me a long
ing to see again my home and the
mother whose tender memory had
never left me. But / restrained N.Y.
self, vowing that not until by every
means in power had expiated the
wrong-doing of my past, and proved
myself worthy of her love and respect,
would return and ask for them. That
time has at last come; and, mother, if
God wills, henceforth our life-path
shall not be severed again"
A year rolls slowly by. Harold has
established himself in business in
neighboring city, but each week the
old homestead is frightened by his
presence.
And thus Eunice and he have come
to know each other well; SO well that
= day comes when Harold, taking her
soft hand in his, leads her blushing
and happy to her aunt's side.
Mother" he says, '.shall you be
willing to lose your niece, if instead you
gain daughter"
The old lady's eyes suf'use with tears
as she draws Eunice to her and kisses
her sweet face.
May God bless you both!" she says
TREMENDOUSLY. 1.-The wish of heart has
been granted. Make her happy,
Harold. She is one in thousand"
LAY, that will, mother" the young
man answered fervently, eff the devo-
ton of a lifetime will suffice. But
even that will never repay what | owe
her, and you will understand why when
| tell you what Eunice herself did not
know until this morning-that it was
her childish voice that uttered the
words of warning that first led me to
think seriously whittier my steps were
tending, and to resolve to draw back
before it was too late. l knew her at
once, Notwithstanding the lapse of
years. | had always wished that
time might come when, meeting her
again, might,in some measure, repay
her for the incalculable good done to
me; but little thought how or in what
manner it was eventually to be placed
within my power.
eff she is not the happiest little wife
the sun ever shone upon, then there is
no such word as gratitude in the
English language"
The Handsomest Widow.